


may i feel?

by MavenMorozova



Series: maven's reader-inserts [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Asgard, Asgardian Reader (Marvel), But Reader Loves It, Chocolate, Cunnilingus, Dom Loki (Marvel), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feeding, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Food, Food Kink, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Poetry, Jotunn Loki (Marvel) (sort of), Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kissing, Light Angst, Lingerie, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki Has Cold Hands, Loss of Virginity, Mental Health Issues, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Social Anxiety, Strawberries, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Reader, Virginity Kink, Voice Kink, also first time writing a reader-insert!, no y/n, reader has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: “I can make it up to you, perhaps?” Loki said slyly, his voice nearly a question, and you shot up again, knuckles turning white around the bottle’s neck. The implications of his words lingered in your brain, but hadn’t that same weakness been what had gotten you into this situation in the first place? “Prince Loki, I cannot, as you know,” you said to him softly, not wanting to anger him. “I cannot lose my position. It is...unprofessional of me to indulge you in this way.”Loki’s lips thinned, though there was a hint of amusement still dancing within his blue eyes. “What if I could persuade you otherwise?”You are a servant of the royal family of Asgard. After an embarrassing incident at one of Thor's revels, Prince Loki finds a way to make it up to you.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Original Female Character(s) & Reader
Series: maven's reader-inserts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045701
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	may i feel?

**Author's Note:**

> ok look...this was meant to be like a little drabble or ficlet, less than 1k words...that failed. So here, take this longer-than-normal one-shot instead (at least for me, my one-shots are usually around 1-2k words lol).  
> i _may_ continue this if that is wanted, but as of right now i have too many WIPs, so I'm going to try and not start another one!
> 
> inspired by a few things:  
> \- shiningloki's "Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me"  
> \- the poem "May I Feel?" by E.E. Cummings, narrated by Tom Hiddleston  
> which I'm sure if you're reading this fic, you already know one or both of those, but credit is due where credit is due!
> 
> also written for @jbbuckybarnes's kinktober list, day 23 - first time.
> 
> this is my first time writing anything with Marvel or Loki or Reader-Insert fanfic, so please keep that in mind. otherwise, enjoy!

You were spread out on the large, plush bed, dark green sheets billowing with the slight breeze around you. Well, really, it was less of a bed and more of an outdoor sofa, or maybe something in-between the two, with a dark wood canopy from which hung slightly sheer curtains the same color as the sheets you lay upon. There were pillows, too, blue and black and gold, that contrasted the green quite nicely. It was a pleasant design, and that made it all the more relaxing.

Loki had always had an eye for design and the aesthetics of a space. You could tell, as you were sure everyone could, the way that he dressed was impeccable, and his wardrobe stuck to a theme that looked rather good on him. Green. It was clear too that his chambers in the Asgardian royal palace were decorated in a similar fashion. It suited him, really.

Losing your focus on the moment in the thoughts swirling in your head about design and coloring and everything else, you let your neck muscles relax and sank your head into the pillow under it. Loki would be here soon, you reminded yourself, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what would occur when he arrived, for he had whispered the idea into your ear during the revelries today.

As usual, Thor had basked in his glory, shouting and pounding on the table and shaking his fists in the air as he roared. Loki had been his typical self as well, smiling at his brother from the corner of the room as he happily drank from his goblet. And you’d been there, too, a mere serving-girl, indulgently filling all their chalices as the warriors ceremoniously tossed them on the floor with a shout. It was one of the few moments that you felt relaxed, even though you were technically just doing your job, and that was because you were amidst all the joy and excitement of the best and brightest of all of Asgard. They were the sun, and you were the moon that clung to its stubborn orbit.

Out of nowhere, Loki had locked eyes with you. His gaze had been surprisingly intense, tracking you as you moved quickly over to him with your refilling bottle. But when you had lifted it, a question in your gaze, he had simply smirked and shaken his head. “You don’t wish for more wine, Your Highness?” you had asked.

Loki shook his head again. “I just wanted to get a good look at you,” he admitted, voice soft. “You are beautiful, as you must know.”

At his words, you blushed and looked down, lowering the bottle of dark wine slightly. “Your compliment is most appreciated, Your Highness, but—”

Loki shushed you, placing a finger to his lips, still smiling. You wondered if he was slightly tipsy, but then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was, rather more so if he was not. “Please accept my gift to you, my dear.”

Your brows furrowed. “Gift, Your Highness?”

“My compliment,” he replied with a snicker. His eyes roved up and down your body once ever so slowly, and you couldn’t help flushing again. The back of your collar was suddenly quite hot, and you adjusted your neck slightly to give it air.

Then, suddenly, he was closer, and somehow it was now _you_ with your back pressed against the wall instead of him, gasping as he took your hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Your hands are rather smooth for a servant, young one,” Loki whispered.

A chill skittered across your shoulders and you swallowed tightly. “I-I’m new, Your Highness.” You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of apprehension as you said it. The feeling he was eliciting from you now was pleasing, to say the least, and you certainly desired more, but you couldn’t risk losing your position within the royal palace. You were nothing but a servant, and he was a prince, a _god._ No consequences would be inflicted upon him, and you were sure that you would receive the brunt of it. So taking in a short breath, you scooted away from him along the wall, wine bottle still in your hand. “I apologize, but I cannot, my prince.”

Loki’s lips thinned, but he said nothing else. As you walked away, you were sure that would be the last of him, but you hadn’t even made it two steps before a familiar voice called, “Wait!” and a long-fingered hand closed itself around your wrist, jerking you back around to face him. You stumbled and tripped and suddenly, with a great lurch of dismay, the wine bottle in your free hand tipped and fell, spilling over your uniform and splashing on Loki’s armor.

You stood there for a moment, stunned, mouth slightly agape. This was...not the way you had planned for the night to go. You were meant to secondhandedly enjoy the revelries, then retreat to your own quarters and catch up on some much-needed sleep, for the Asgardian warriors had been feasting and partying for days now, and you had been there each night, dutiful as always.

It was not meant to be like this. Not like the slick embarrassment that felt like cold oil being poured over your face and down your skin. Not your uniform ruined and all of Asgard’s greatest warriors, including the crown prince himself, the mighty Thor, staring at you, right at you. You gulped, feeling the familiar feeling of anxiety creeping through your chest. You couldn’t breathe, much less think. All you could see were the faces of gods and warriors before you, so polished and powerful and— You were, you were…

“Carry on,” called a low voice beside you, and with a start, you looked over to see that Loki had addressed his peers with a raised eyebrow. You saw him exchange a glance with Thor, and with a nod, the God of Thunder broke into a large smile, banging his goblet on the table. “So who wants to hear how I defeated the rogue Jötunn on Vanaheim?”

Around him, his mates cheered, and you felt yourself audibly sigh with relief when their attentions turned away from you. But there was still one person leftover.

“I’m…so sorry,” Loki said from beside you. He did look truly regretful; his forehead was knit together in a series of frustrated lines, he was still, and for once, unsmiling, and you could see that his teeth gently bit his upper lip. But you didn’t know how to respond, so you simply leaned down to pick up the wine bottle that had fallen, averting your gaze from his.

“I can make it up to you, perhaps?” Loki said slyly, his voice nearly a question, and you shot up again, knuckles turning white around the bottle’s neck. The implications of his words lingered in your brain, but hadn’t that same weakness been what had gotten you into this situation in the first place? “Prince Loki, I cannot, as you know,” you said to him softly, not wanting to anger him. “I cannot lose my position. It is...unprofessional of me to indulge you in this way.”

Loki’s lips thinned, though there was a hint of amusement still dancing within his blue eyes. “What if I could persuade you otherwise?”

You swallowed. He was very close to you now, hand drifting from your wrist around to the small of your back. The sensation of his hands was intoxicating, and you couldn’t deny that you’d had fantasies about lying with the God of Mischief before. It was just...could you, in all actuality, fulfill it?

Loki sighed when he saw your persistent hesitation. “My dear, what is your name?”

You told him quietly, embarrassed that he even wanted to know, that he even cared.

He repeated it softly to himself, letting the delightful syllables roll around his silver tongue. “You will not get into trouble, I promise,” he then said, pulling you closer. The back of your neck was hot again, and you could feel the touch of his hand acutely where it lay, fingers pressing into your skin.

Slowly, you looked up at him, meeting his eyes again. You had never been so close to one of the designated “gods” of Asgard before, and you couldn’t help but worry that you were going to stumble again and mess it all up. “Alright,” you finally said, so quietly that you could barely hear yourself speak.

“What’s that?” Loki asked, a teasing smirk on his mouth.

“I will allow you to, um—”

Loki leaned into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Fuck you? Ravish you until you beg for me to come inside of you?” he whispered in a low, needy voice. At the sound of it, you released the tiniest of moans, and Loki chuckled into your ear. “You want this more than you are letting on, don’t you?” he asked wickedly, and you nodded despite your so-called honorable intentions.

Loki pulled away, his face blank like the exchange between the two of you had not just happened. “My chambers need cleaning, servant,” he said authoritatively, chin rising in the air as he eyed you from an angle, gauging your reaction. You narrowed your eyes at him, but you could feel a smile creeping onto your lips. “Of course, Your Highness.”

You turned to go, but Loki nearly spun you into his arms again as he grabbed you, whispering one last thing into your ear before you could go. “There will be a private maid there to assist you,” he said, and though you weren’t sure exactly what he meant, you nodded.

“Go,” he ordered, and you did, still clutching the empty wine bottle, with its contents all over your uniform’s dress. Loki would join you in his chambers, then, after he had excused himself from the party and shaken off the loud braggings of his brother.

So you had wandered your way to the most coveted part of the castle, the place where all the servants whispered of. The royal chambers of the Allfather, Queen Frigga, and the two heartstopping princes, Thor and Loki. The Gods of Thunder and Mischief. It was all quite daunting, especially since you’d heard anecdotes from a few of your peers, bragging of their sexual encounters with one of the princes or the other. Thor took more lovers than Loki ever did, or so it was said, but the ones who came back from Loki’s chambers always seemed to have a different type of aura surrounding them than those from Thor’s chambers. It was said that Thor was demanding and rough, but that Loki was passionate and gentle, even sometimes imperious, but in a different sort of way than Thor was. You had always laughed at that, wondering how a person could be all three, and in such different varieties. But then again, you were a virgin, and who were you to assume how sex worked?

So really, you were ready for anything as you made your way to Loki’s chambers.

When you reached the great double doors of polished oak that led the way into his drawing-room, you paused and knocked, quietly first, and then louder when your first knock brought no results. Almost immediately, a woman opened the doors, her petite figure dressed in Loki’s signature shade of green, and her eyes crinkled with age. “Welcome, my dear. Prince Loki did mention you would arrive.”

Your mouth fell open slightly. “What—he—?”

She held up her wrist, where a golden communication device caught the light of the candles that lit the room. _Candles._ They weren’t necessary; they hadn’t been needed for thousands of years. But they were something else— _romantic._ Loki was doing this for you.

“Do you need help with those clothes?” the servant asked, breaking you from your thoughts, and you nodded thankfully, setting down the wine bottle that you still were holding on the foot table that sat between two opposite-facing sofas.

“What is your name, my lady?” you asked her as she helped you removed your red-soaked uniform and place it into a laundry basket. She hummed for a moment, but then you saw her smile. “Estrid,” she said quietly, as if her name was a spell instead of just something to call her. You could sense that there was something about her that was more than she seemed, but it wasn’t really your place to pry.

“Well, thank you, Estrid,” you said to her, and you meant it with all the sincerity in your heart. You had been so mortified earlier, and feeling this older woman’s hands on your shoulders and around you like the embrace of a kindly mother was ever so comforting. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, darling,” she said in reply with a twinkle in her eye, and as you stood naked before her, you suddenly remembered the purpose of your visit. Yet again, you felt that familiar heat flush your face and neck. “I, um—do you have—”

“Something to wear?” Estrid finished with a smile curling her lips. She left the room and emerged again with a long, silky green robe and simple black undergarments. You felt your face flush at the intimacy of the way they looked, even more so when you realized the intricacy of the designs on the bralette and underwear. There was lightly perceptible golden embroidery on the hems and on the lace that spanned the back of them. It was sexy, unlike anything you were used to. You had never owned anything this luxurious.

Estrid seemed unphased, though that only served to elevate your apprehension. So you addressed her. “Does the prince...often do this? Provide this luxury to low-level servants and promise them mind-numbing sex?” You were a little afraid to hear the answer.

Estrid paused from where she was unfolding the green robe, thinking for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she shrugged and motioned for you to turn around so she could lace your arms through the robe’s sleeves. “Yes and no,” Estrid said evasively as she did so. “Loki takes lovers, yes, though not often. He is good at it, too.” She sighed. “I hope this doesn’t upset you, darling. I mean...this is something everyone knows.”

“I know,” you said a little too quickly. “I have friends who have slept with him. I’ve heard the stories.” It was said that though Loki was passive in Asgardian politics and deferred to his brother in general, the same could not be said for his actions in bed.

“Then you must also know that it is essential for him to sleep with someone at least once a moon,” Estrid said tentatively.

You stared at her. “What?” you asked. It wasn’t that it was a lot, quite the contrary, in fact, but just the fact that it was a “necessity” at all.

“He is the God of Mischief, love,” Estrid replied with a smirk. You could suddenly see now why Loki had chosen her to be his personal servant. She was just as charming as he was, if in a slightly different way. You didn’t feel the same enigmatic pull to her that you felt to Loki, but she was clever, and she was smart. You admired that about her already. “You do see where I’m heading, do you not?”

You nodded slowly. Mischief. Sex. It made sense that he’d need the latter to enhance his title and position. “I understand it,” you said to her after a moment. “I suppose it was just nice to feel special for a moment, before realizing that this is as common as it is.” You swallowed, biting back what you wanted to add on, that you had wanted your first time to be with someone who loved you, not just needed someone to fuck.

“Oh, but I wouldn’t be sure it is quite as you’re thinking, darling,” Estrid said with a smile, noticing your discomfort. “Loki has taken lovers, yes, but rarely has he provided any with...all of this.” She gestured at the lingerie you were now wearing and swept her arm around. You noticed that suddenly, a lavish amount of food had appeared, mostly desserts, and lots of chocolate, which was your favorite. How had he known? Well—it was a common trait, really, but still, you had no idea how all of this food could appear at once. It simply wasn’t possible.

“An illusion, dear,” Estrid explained, stepping up beside you and taking a chocolate-covered strawberry in her fingers. She popped it into her mouth and sighed with delight. “You will love these.”

“Thank you,” you said again, overwhelmed, but this time in a good sort of way.

Estrid wrapped her arms around you and gave you a quick squeeze. “You can talk to me anytime at all, do you understand?” she said sternly, and you were reminded again of how many years she was your senior. You laughed and nodded, and only when you wandered out onto the terrace did she finally slip from Loki’s chambers, disappearing into the hallway.

So that is where you were now, lying on the soft silky dark green sheets of the outdoor sofa-bed, enjoying the cool breeze that rushed over your mostly bare skin. No, this had not been the night you had planned at all. But you were sure that it would be a delightful one nonetheless.

***

Loki arrived not soon after you had laid down, creaking his chamber doors open quietly and striding through the length of the drawing-room out to the terrace, which is where he was sure you would be. When he saw you stretched out on the chaise for him, legs spread just a little apart, and barely wearing anything as you stared up at the night sky, he felt himself become aroused. You were so beautiful, all laid out for him like the illusionary feast he had prepared for you in his chambers. He wanted to take you and yet savor you at the same time.

From where you lay, you saw Loki approach you, saw the hunger in his gaze. He was just as needy as Estrid had warned, so you knew that you would need to speak to him before things slipped out of hand.

“Your Highness?” you asked tentatively as he crawled over you on the chaise, playing with the soft bits of your hair. “I must tell you—”

“Loki,” he interrupted, and for a moment you were confused, but then he was kissing you on your forehead, and then, his meaning was perfectly clear. “I want you to call me Loki,” he said, nearly growling. “Please.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “But it is important that you know...I’ve never—this is—” You broke off, unsure of how to confess to him, but Loki seemed to understand immediately. “This is your first time,” he said, his words in a firm statement like he already knew. You nodded warily, but Loki’s grin only widened. “I will make this worth it for you, darling,” he murmured into your ear, before nipping it slightly. You let out an unseemly moan at the little bit of contact he had just made, and Loki laughed as you did. “Yet again, you surprise me, little one,” he said, “just as you did at the revel.”

Your eyelashes fluttered and you looked up at him, mouth parted slightly. Was this really happening. Were you really about to be fucked by the prince, the God of Mischief? Loki Odinson?

“I sense doubt within you, young one,” Loki said, frowning.

“This is new to me,” you admitted, and with a breath, told him of the same worry that you had expressed to Estrid what seemed like just a moment ago. “Are you going to just leave me, discarded?” you finally asked him.

Loki seemed rather offended at the suggestion, his already-thin cheeks thinning further as he sucked in a breath and lay down at your side. He was silent for a long moment, and for just a second, you wondered if he was actually asleep. But when you turned to look at him, you could see that his eyes were staring up to the numerous stars and he almost looked scared. Hesitantly, you asked, “What is it?”

Loki turned his head to look at you, and when the breeze blew across his face, a few strands of his long black locks fell into across his cheeks, such a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was beautiful, and it took your breath away. “I want to keep all of you,” he said softly, and the breeze almost snatched it away from you, but you grasped onto the words nevertheless, desperate to hear them. You _needed_ to know. You needed him to want you fully.

“All of me?” you asked.

“Every single one of you,” Loki whispered, and you could have sworn that his voice broke. “I never have wanted to use any of you in the way I have. But I cannot do that.” When he saw the beginnings of protest bubbling in your eyes, he shushed you, placing a finger to your lips. Where his skin touched them, a tingling feeling remained, craving more of him. “It’s hard to explain, darling.”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“I want you to know that this will not mean nothing to me,” Loki continued in a whisper, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. It was surprisingly cool, and in the warmth of the night, you felt yourself leaning into it gently. “And I want to apologize for what happened earlier.”

Your cheeks warmed again in the memory of the wine incident at Thor’s feast and revel. You didn’t want to think about it. “Then do what you promised,” you told him, surprising yourself with your assertiveness. Loki, fortunately, did not seem to mind, instead smirking and shifting himself so that he was on top of you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear as he had done before. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Ravenous,” you replied, voice almost a moan. You remembered the chocolate-covered strawberry that Estrid had shown you, and felt a sudden craving for it now.

Loki smiled as he remembered his little trick, and climbed off of you to summon his illusionary food. It came to you all at once, hovering in the air around you so that you could choose.

It was lovely, then. Loki fed you each strawberry one by one, and you moaned as each tiny fruit disappeared into your mouth. Estrid had been right; they were divine indeed.

“You have such a pretty mouth,” Loki murmured as you ate the final strawberry. He leaned forward and brushed the pad of his thumb over your lip, gathering a stray chocolate stain and sucking it off his finger...slowly, seductively. You swallowed. You wanted those fingers in your mouth, or even better, in your pussy.

“Not so fast, my dear,” Loki said then, as if he had sensed your thoughts. You flushed, and as he licked the last bit of chocolate from his finger, he pressed his lips to yours. Sighing against him, you allowed your mouth to open for his tongue, and with a small bit of amusement, you realized that you could still taste the chocolate in his mouth.

“You taste heavenly,” Loki mumbled into your mouth, and that made you groan, hands fisting in his long hair. You had never truly kissed someone this way before, and it was even better than you had imagined.

“Are you ready to move to the bed?” Loki asked after a moment, his voice gentle. Slowly, you nodded.

“Inside or outside?” he asked.

You thought for a moment. “Outside, right here on this chaise,” you told him, gesturing to the bed-like sofa that you had been lying on. “Please.”

Loki’s lips turned upward and he scooped you into his arms, carrying you over to the chaise in a few steps and laying you down with the utmost gentleness. He then stood over you, eyes lingering on all your generous parts: the swell of each of your lovely breasts and the soft, pillowy plane that was your stomach. Even the way that the curve of your ass was on full display, as you lay slightly on your side. Seeing his eyes lingering there, you stuck out your ass even further, lip jutting into a pout.

At that, Loki’s eyes filled black with lust, and he had to try hard not to fuck you right there, the little virginous whore that you were for him. Taking a deep breath, he latched a finger around the hem of your black lacy panties and ran the tip of it along the inside. You moaned at his proximity, and Loki felt his cock twitch in recognition of the sound. “Like that, young one?” he asked, voice low.

Quickly, you nodded. You did need him, just as he needed you.

Smirking mischievously, Loki shucked off his layers of gold-and-green armor, leaving it in a pile at his feet. Now he was only in a dark sweater-like material and tight leggings that left nothing to the imagination. You could see the tent his cock had formed in his pants, and you sucked in a breath at the sight of it. This was real. This was _actually real._

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Loki whispered as he kissed your forehead again. “Relax, now.” His lips slowly moved to yours, and you moaned into the passionate kiss he gave you. It was a hungry kiss, a kiss that begged for more, and you wanted it all. His hands swept along your back, and even through the green robe you wore, you could feel the coolness there. It was almost unnatural, that chill, but you didn’t mind; it only made the God of Mischief all the more enticing.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Loki edged the strap of lace that held up your bralette off of your shoulder, and you let him kiss your clavicle there. His lips were soft on your skin, and you shivered. “Loki…”

“Yes, darling?”

You really didn’t know what to say. You just wanted...more. Faster. There was a fire building in the pit of your belly and you wanted to toss it a log, but Loki was insistent on layering the kindling. When you didn’t respond, he smiled at you, eyes narrowed with knowing, and whispered your name softly. “Patience, patience…”

You nodded reluctantly, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips slowly moved across your collarbones and his hands pulled the green robe from your shoulders and arms. All of it was so light; you had not expected this at all. Loki was a _prince_ and a _god,_ and you had expected someone like him to be more...out of control? No, that was not it. But certainly not as gentle as he was currently holding you.

A minute later, your bralette was removed from your chest, and your breasts shone on full display for him in the moonlight. “ _Beautiful,”_ Loki whispered, and you blushed. Loki raised an eyebrow. “You will have to get used to that particular word, my dear.”

Then his lips were back on your body, more insistent this time as he sucked at the skin around each of your breasts. You moaned as his tongue slowly encircled your areola and flicked at your nipple. As he did so, he gave your other breast a squeeze and you yelped.

“Too much?” Loki asked, but you shook your head fervently. “Keep going,” you whispered, pushing your body to him. “Please, Loki.”

“As you wish, darling,” he murmured in reply, returning to his task. You could feel yourself trembling with want, with _need,_ as he stimulated your hardened nipples. And then— _oh._

His hand had moved to that sensitive spot between your legs, and through the thin fabric of your panties, you could feel acutely every movement that he made. _“Loki,”_ you moaned, causing him to grin amidst the ministrations of his delightful tongue. He pulled away from your breast and stared up at you, at the building ecstasy in your eyes. “You are already so wet, little one.” Smirking, he held up his hand. Sure enough, it was coated with the juices of your pussy, and that only made you moan further. “Loki, please—”

Loki gave a few scolding clicks of his tongue, but otherwise seemed unphased, his hand reaching into your underwear and fingers pressing to your clit. You gasped as they began to work in little circles, bucking into his hand. “Loki!” you shouted, clutching at his shoulders for stability. It wasn’t that you were new to the feeling, for you had pleased yourself in this way on many occasions, but when someone else was doing it—the fucking _God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard_ —it was a wholly different experience.

“So wet for me,” Loki mumbled into your tit, pulling at your hard nipple with his teeth. You whined at the heady feeling of it, for combined with the finger that was now slipping into your cunt, this was nearly Valhalla itself.

“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were crying out for. “Please, Loki, ahh—”

But he suddenly stopped, hanging you over the precipice of something, something lovely and powerful _and why had he stopped?_

“Loki!” you screamed, nails raking through his black hair, but he only snickered at your frustration. “The best is yet to come, my dear.”

Then his hand was skimming your ass, touching your skin through the thin lace. You ground yourself into it, but Loki only laughed further. He suddenly yanked the scrap of fabric from you in one quick movement, and for the first time, you began to see the hunger truly rise within him, deep and powerful and full of passion.

You were interrupted from your thoughts by a wave of feeling that washed over you in an instant: Loki had just dragged his tongue down your torso and had his mouth clamped over the tightly wound bud of your sex, kissing it furiously. Your eyes rolled back; you were caught in his touch, his mouth, his tongue. Furiously you scratched your hands into his shirt, pulling the fabric upwards. “Loki!” you cried, panting. “Oh, Loki, please—”

But he pulled away again, and you let out a whine. The smirk unfolding across Loki’s face was unbearable, made even more arousing by the fact that his mouth was coated in your wetness.

He slowly stood, eyes staying on yours the entire time. His cock was undeniably hard now, and from the wetness that could be seen soaking through his leggings, you could tell that he’d been stroking himself as he administered to your needs. Narrowing his eyes and lifting his chin at you, Loki pulled off his shirt, revealing a slightly-toned abdomen, and stepped out of his pants, his cock springing free, long, pulsing, and tinged with an odd sort of color. Blue? Your mouth watered at the sight of it, but Loki had other plans for you tonight.

“This is going to hurt,” he told you, petting your hair gently, “but I promise to be gentle.”

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded. “I’m ready,” you told him firmly.

With a twinkle in his eye, Loki delivered a quick kiss to your lips, and you could taste yourself on him, but it didn’t last long, for he was then pulling away again, lining his dick up to your cunt. Slowly he pushed into you, groaning, and you were struck by how much more painful it was than you had imagined. “Fuck,” you cursed, clutching Loki’s arms.

He kissed you gently, pulling at your lip just a little as he sunk in deeper, then pausing to allow you to adjust to the foreign feeling. “Shall I continue?”

“Please,” you said, your voice coming out as little more than a squeak, and Loki lowered himself further, stopping when he reached his base. He sighed as he lay on top of you, hand coming to your face to wipe away the few tears that had sprung to your eyes. “It’s alright, darling. You just let me know when you are ready to move forward.”

You nodded, sniffing, and Loki pressed his lips to your ear. You shivered; you were starting to love the way he did that. “You are so tight, young one,” he hissed, sending a spark of arousal down to your core. “So fucking tight for me. New and untouched and—” He broke off into a grunt as you clenched around his hard length, both a painful and delightful experience. You were a little more used to the feeling now, and the pressure was beginning to build within you again.

Seeing the sensation manifesting on your face, Loki grinned. “May I move?” he asked, ever so quietly, voice like a song.

You nodded, lips curling into a smile despite yourself.

Carefully, Loki began to shift his weight upwards again, hands pressing against yours into the chaise below your back. It was an odd sensation to feel him pulling out again, but when he pushed back inside of you, it was better than anything in the world. It still hurt, of course, but along with that was pleasure, too, especially as Loki let one of your hands go to finger at your clit.

You moaned, beginning to match his rhythm. “Not too fast,” you warned him as he sped up slightly, and Loki nodded, gaze never leaving yours. You could tell it was hard for him not to let himself go, and in an odd sort of way, you were proud of him for his discipline. But then again, he’d had much practice.

Closer and closer the both of you came, until you were begging and writhing below him, staring into his enticing blue-green eyes that shone like the sea. “Loki, oh, _Loki_ —my prince!” you cried, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, I’m so close—help me—don’t stop—”

“Come,” he said simply, and you did, coming undone in the slow fucking of his cock and the vibrations of his fingers. White blanked out your vision and you squeezed your eyes shut, lost in the beauty of the moment.

Loki came a few seconds later, screaming your name as he spilled into you, hot liquid filling your cunt. You groaned at the feeling, and Loki fell on top of you, panting heavily.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, pressing a kiss to the hollowness below his cheekbone. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything,” he murmured in reply, capturing your lips in his again. “ You are divine, my dear. I—thank _you,”_ he said, and though you had no idea what he meant, you sighed into him, humming as his hands caressed your face.

Next to him, you slowly fell asleep, for he was a cooling presence against the warm night, and the breeze sweeping across your bare skin seemed to come from Valhalla itself. Although you supposed that you were in Valhalla right _now,_ and he was your loving god. Your God of Mischief.

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut, his lean arms wrapping around you tightly. “Sleep well, darling,” he whispered, and that night, right then, you did.

**Author's Note:**

> alright how did it go? i would love to explore Estrid as a character in a later fic or chapter (*enters into OC hell*). Let me know what you think!
> 
> also if you want, come say hi to me on my [tumblr!](https://lokiharlot.tumblr.com) i don't bite:)  
> stay safe lovelies<3


End file.
